


A Worthy Queen

by craterdweller



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: F/M, Post-Season/Series 08 Finale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-11
Updated: 2016-12-11
Packaged: 2018-09-07 21:24:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8816719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/craterdweller/pseuds/craterdweller
Summary: Ba'al thinks Carter would make a worthy queen.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Prompts:
> 
> GYWO Bingo Character Traits Card #1: Narcissistic  
> Prompt-in-a-box: Gold  
> AllBingo iPod Shuffle Card - "Run Right Back"  
> lyrics that apply:  
>  _Finest exterior_  
>  She's so superior, ohh  
> But she wont allow  
> And I want it now

Her blonde hair shone in the sun like a golden crown; her brow furrowed in concentration as she fiddled with the crystals in the dialing device. Ba’al stared until she raised her head in question, her brilliant blue eyes dancing with fire. “What?”

“You would make me a beautiful Queen, Samantha. We would rule the galaxy.” 

She snorted. 

He waved his hand dismissively. “Why do you not lead?” He nodded in Mitchell’s direction. “Why do you choose to subjugate yourself to another buffoon? Wasn’t serving under O’Neill all those years torment enough?”

She gave him an icy look but said nothing. He had clearly hit a nerve with O’Neill. He smiled to himself. This woman was not afraid of a fight. He admired her spirit. It would be pleasurable to break her. 

He stretched his arms over head in a lazy motion, revealing six-pack abs and a trim physique that never failed to please the ladies. He frowned. She had returned to her task, apparently paying no mind to his display.

“Samantha!”

“What?”

“You did not answer my question. Why do you continue to kowtow to those of inferior intellect and beauty? Kneel before your god and swear your allegiance. Then stand by my side as my queen!”

She rolled her eyes. “Not interested.”

He stepped closer and pitched his voice low. “You could have wealth, servants, power. Laboratories and palaces designed by your own hand.” He reached out to touch her hair and she took him down hard in a move she had learned from Jack during her first year on SG–1.

“Not if you were the last living thing in the galaxy,” she spat. She twisted his arm until he cried out. “Try to touch me again and you will see just how inventive I can be.” She shoved him away from her and stormed off towards the supply tent.

Excited by the challenge, Ba’al made to go after her, but found himself on the ground once again. He looked up to see Teal’c towering over him. “You dare to lay your hands on a god, shol’va? I should kill you where you stand.”

“I would like to see you try.” 

Mitchell readied his P–90. “Yeah, I kinda want to see that too.”

Ba’al plastered on his smarmiest grin and held up his hands. “I shall retire to my ship until needed by Colonel Carter.” He ringed back to his al’kesh, dismissing the servants that bowed before him.

Alone in his sleeping chamber he studied his reflection in the mirror. With the aid of a sarcophagus, his host body had retained a semblance of youth. He had always been partial to this body, one he possessed over two millennia ago. He certainly had not lacked for female companionship during that time. However, a more careful study revealed lines around the eyes, a bit of grey in the once jet black hair, and discolorations in his skin. Something humans called age spots. Surely it was not these minor imperfections that had caused Samantha Carter to reject him? He was a superior being. A god.

He stroked his goatee. Maybe it was the facial hair? No. He had it on good authority that the beard made him, what was the Terran term, oh yes, hot. He activated the communication device on his dressing table connecting him to one of his clones hidden on Earth. “Hello handsome. I need you to do a bit of research. Find out what type of man Samantha Carter fancies. Better yet, find out who she fancies. If my future Queen prefers a different host, it is a small price to pay.”

“Caving in to a mere mortal? Perhaps you are ill, brother.”

Ba’al chuckled. “Or maybe I can’t wait to see her face when she learns I’ve taken her mate for a host.”

“Perhaps she has no mate. She is getting rather old,” the clone replied rather cheekily.

Ba’al narrowed his gaze. “No. I saw something in her expression just before she told me I wasn’t her type. She’s hiding someone.”

His saw his clone roll his eyes before shutting down the device and made a mental note to eliminate that one after he had completed his errand. He returned to the mirror this time sans clothing. He stood proud and erect. “Soon my dear Samantha. You will be on your knees.”


End file.
